


pucker up

by peachtones



Category: Produce 101 (TV), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: (just a lil), (sy's more subtle abt it than yh is tho), Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, M/M, Makeup, Making Out, Mutual Pining, but none of it is in the fic shsh, i guess??, inspiration is a wild bitch, just know it's established they're pining but they're also stupid, this came from yohan beating his face with the puff in the ep w/ ssinnim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-24 01:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20349847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachtones/pseuds/peachtones
Summary: Yohan has been effectively banned from apply his own lip tint by their stylists, notorious for going overboard with the product. Seungyoun just happens to be in the right place at the right time.





	pucker up

Yohan was, to put it lightly, going through it. 

He knew that makeup was inherently part of being an idol -- he had even dabbled in it before he even considered becoming a trainee, with a bit of concealer here and some lip tint there -- but there was one little fact that he had grossly overlooked: the fact that he’d have to wear makeup almost every day (at least, during any form of promotion, whenever he would potentially be seen in public), for the foreseeable future. 

But it wasn’t the fact that he had to wear the makeup on the daily that was stressing him out, oh no. He had a bunch of lovely, skilled stylists who loved their jobs and he wouldn’t trade them for the world. No, it was the fact that sometimes he was left in charge of doing _his own _makeup. He wasn’t necessarily _bad_ at doing his own makeup per se, but he wasn’t_ super good _at it either. He was somewhere in that middle ground where he’d go out of his way to try and convince someone else do it for him, but when he had no other option he’d reluctantly do it himself. It wouldn’t always turn out the best, but he tried his hardest. There was only so much watching endless makeup tutorial and futile attempts at practicing could do for him. He didn’t have the magic touch for it, like some of the other members did.

(Their stylists had even complimented him once or twice when he’d come into the salon pre-made up, but it had been with smiles behind hands held over their mouths and wrinkles in the corners of their eyes, which made him feel like a child being praised managing to dress themselves, except his shoes weren’t matching and his shirt was definitely inside out. He didn’t mind it, though -- he wasn’t a Ssin-nim by any means, so he would take the half-hearted compliments.)

To be honest, he enjoyed getting his makeup done, with the soft brushes and cushy puffs, gentle fingers working product into his skin -- but it was only nice if someone else was doing it. The repetitive motions and light touches were quite relaxing, enough to have him jerking awake in the stylists’ chair by a staff member patting his shoulder to let him know he had somewhere else he needed to be. They’d only just debuted, and he’d fallen asleep in the styling chairs more times than he could count on two hands. (He was pretty sure the other had stashes of unflattering pictures of him hidden on their phones, just from their trips to the salon alone.)

Out of everything, eyeshadow had to be the easiest for Yohan; he would swipe a single color over his eyelid, waiting until someone caught his arm and tutted at him for his lackluster eyeshadow before sitting him down to add depth and dimension that he couldn’t manage on his own. Second place was doing his eyebrows, easily just filling in sparse bits and trying not to accidentally go overboard. After that was foundation and concealer. 

Dohyon and Dongpyo often kept him company when he did his foundation, fascinated by the “manly man” way that he applied it with a cushion. Dongpyo helped him check for patchiness while Dohyon just watched him beat his face before boredness set in and demanded that Yohan do their foundation too, until they become tired of being punched in the face with an air puff. (Yohan was pretty sure they just enjoyed seeing each other suffering, but he wasn’t about to take that joy away from them.)

But there was one thing he couldn’t do -- he had been strictly forbidden by the stylists from applying anything to his own lips that wasn’t chapstick or lip balm. He had gone overboard a few times too many, disregarding the “tint” in _ lip tint, _resulting in his lips being stained vibrant pinks and too-bright cherry reds, much to the chagrin of the stylist in charge of him that day. But in his defense, every time he had done his lips on his own it had looked fine up close (for the most part), but looked absolutely atrocious from far away.

So there Yohan was, lying prone on his bed, clutching a tube of lip tint in his hand. He hadn’t applied it, in fear that the stylists had a sixth sense and would know the exact moment the applicator touched his lips, and would scold him the next time he was in their presence. The thing was, everyone had to be out of the dorm in less than 20 minutes and he still wasn’t ready, still dressed in his sleep shorts and lip tint-less, having a crisis. While he could’ve easily left the dorm without any sort of lip color, he ran the risk of looking absolutely dead without a hint of _ something _ on his lips, and he couldn’t have that. No idol would be caught dead looking like a zombie unless they were carefully bundled up with a mask and hat, en route to a plane that was heading overseas. He had even taken the time to style his hair today, so there was no way he was about to let all of his time and effort go to waste by putting a cap on it.

While he internally debated what he should do to remedy his situation in the remaining 15 minutes, the hat-and-mask combo (or maybe he could just go with the mask? But a baseball cap and a mask was a Look) seeming more and more tempting by the second, someone came back into the room. Yohan’s eyes flicked from where they had been staring listlessly at the ceiling to the door to see who had entered the room.

It was Seungyoun, his hair still dripping wet from the shower and in the middle of putting on a pair of earrings that were different from the ones he had been wearing earlier. Shirtless, in all his tattooed glory, with a towel around his neck. Yohan groaned internally. Maybe a little externally. Why did the universe want him to suffer? He closed his eyes for a moment, just long enough to burn the image of Seungyoun he had just seen into the back of his eyelids. Then he was opening his eyes, reaching out to grab Seungyoun by the belt loop as he walked past his bed before he could get any further. 

Seungyoun didn’t seem to notice that Yohan had looped his finger through one of the belt loops on his pants until he stepped just a bit too far and was tugged back, prevented from moving any further forwards. He glanced behind himself, partially lowering his hands that had been on their way up to grab the towel from his neck, confused as to what his pants could’ve caught on before he eyes landed on a pouting Yohan.

“_Hyung_,” Yohan whined as soon as Seungyoun looked at him, lifting up the tube of lip tint.

“_Yohan-ah_,” Seungyoun whined back, mimicking Yohan’s tone as his hands resumed their path, grabbing the towel from his neck and putting it over his head.

“Please, help me,” he pleaded, holding his hand with the tint in it out to Seungyoun. “I’m desperate_._”

Seungyoun eyed Yohan for a second, before giving him a miniscule nod. “Yeah, let me dry my hair first.”

Yohan unhooked his finger from Seungyoun’s belt loop and dropped his arm back onto the bed, watching the way the muscles in the older’s back moved as he vigorously rubbed his hair with the towel and grabbed a shirt off the rack shoved into the corner of the room, pulling it over his head. Yohan sighed, both relieved and disappointed that he couldn’t continue to oogle the other.

Once fully clothed, Seungyoun moved to sit in front of the mirror they had propped up against the only unoccupied wall space to blow dry his hair, which was now slightly less wet thanks to his enthusiastic attempt at drying it with the towel. 

Yohan resorted to just starting wistfully at Seungyoun’s face in the reflection of the mirror since he could oogle no longer, carefully shifting his eyes elsewhere to avoid Seungyoun’s gaze when he chanced a look over his shoulder, grinning. By the time he had gotten his hair to an acceptable, mostly dry state they were down to 10 minutes before everyone had to have exited the dorm and all be on their way down to the vans parked out front waiting for them. 

Seungyoun returned the dryer to where he had taken it from and spun around, scooting across the floor to the tube of lip tint from Yohan’s still extended hand. He inspected the label -- looking at brand and checking the shade -- before raising an eyebrow, shaking the tube lightly. “This one? Really?”

Yohan sat up, frowning down at Seungyoun. “What’s wrong with that one?”

Seungyoun shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong with it. It’s just…I think a different color would look better.”

Before Yohan could protest, Seungyoun had pushed himself up from the floor and walked over to the dresser next to his bunk, pulling open and digging through his designated drawer for what must’ve been his makeup pouch. He said a quiet _ a-ha! _ when he found it, unzipping it and quickly sorting through its contents before he found what he was looking for -- another different brand of lip tint, slightly similar in color to the one Yohan had selected himself, only a little bit darker. A subtle, subdued shade. It was still a nice pink color, but it was nowhere near as bright as the one Yohan had picked himself.

He returned to where Yohan was sitting on the bed, putting the tube of tint between his lips so he could grab Yohan’s face with both of his hands and angle it the way he wanted. He removed his hands from Yohan’s cheeks, removing the tube of tint from his mouth and instead grabbing onto the younger’s chin with his thumb and forefinger to keep him from moving with the same hand.

“Part your lips a little,” Seungyoun told him. Yohan did as asked, opening his mouth slightly.

Yohan stared up at him as he took the applicator from the tube, nowhere else to look but the elder’s face. A look of concentration too over Seungyoun’s features as he removed the excess product before lifting his eyes to focus on putting the color along the inside seam of his bottom lip. Seungyoun seemed to, out of reflex, part his own lips as he was putting the tint on Yohan’s lip. What if he just- no, no. Yohan averted his eyes, looking up to the ceiling.

“Hey,” Seungyoun said, returning the applicator to the tube as he pulled lightly on Yohan’s chin to return it back to its original position. “Don’t move.”

“Sorry,” Yohan muttered, rubbing his lips together at Seungyoun’s prompt. Seungyoun made a face at the result. “What?”

“Doesn’t look right,” he mumbled. 

Yohan closed his eyes as Seungyoun took the applicator back out of the tube and put a bit more product on his lips, afraid that he’d avert his gaze again and end up with a stripe of pink across his face where it definitely was not supposed to be. He couldn’t help but twitch at the feeling of the applicator being replaced by Seungyoun’s finger, patting and swiping at his lips with his fingertip. Seungyoun’s hand on his chin shifted to gently cradle his jaw and tilt his head up more, his thumb swiping along the bottom of Yohan’s lip; he could contain the little breathy inhale of surprise that escaped him when he opened his eyes just enough to see Seungyoun closer than he bad been before, looking down at him with an unfamiliar expression on his face, his bottom lip just barely drawn between his teeth. It seemed like he was inspecting Yohan’s lips, with the way he was staring. Yohan’s eyes slid shut again, waiting for Seungyoun to do something more to his lips before deeming him fit to be seen by the public eye.

What he wasn’t expecting was the feeling of soft lips pressing against his own, slotting perfectly between his parted lips. It took him by surprise but his body went into autopilot, overriding his momentarily stalled brain to push back against the pressure. Not necessarily a kiss, but almost. Then Seungyoun’s hand that had been on Yohan’s jaw was moving back to cradle the back of his head, finally moving his lips against Yohan’s, like he was waiting for permission. Yohan’s hand that had been buried in the fabric at Seungyoun’s hip shot up to the collar of his shirt, hesitantly grabbing it, unsure, before he was delicately pulling the older into him by the back of his neck. 

As quick as it had began, it was over, even though it felt like it took way longer than it actually did.

As Seungyoun pulled back slowly, their lips sticking together from the amount of tint he had applied to Yohan’s lips, Yohan’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Seungyoun’s. He blinked once, twice, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled into a pout, slightly dazed. He didn’t know when his hand had grabbed the bottom of Seungyoun’s shirt, but it was definitely fisted into the material now. That didn’t just happen, did it? He better confirm that he hadn’t fallen back asleep and this was some sort of weird dream his subconscious was torturing him with.

Confused, Yohan stated, “you..kissed me.”

“I kissed you,” Seungyoun confirmed. “You kissed me back.”

“I did...I did do that,” he said, feeling heat creep up in his cheeks suddenly. Why was he feeling shy all of a sudden? He suddenly felt the urge to look somewhere else other than Seungyoun’s face, but he was caught in his gaze, unable to look away. At least, that’s how it felt.

Unabashedly, Seungyoun eyed Yohan’s lips again. “You know, it could be better,” he mused, a hint of a devilish smile forming in the corner of his mouth before he was leaning back down. Yohan pulled him in by the collar of his shirt, crawling up onto his knees in an instant to meet him halfway. Seungyoun’s other hand came up to cradle the side of his face and Yohan was pretty sure he was gonna have pink fingerprints on his neck that would without a doubt look like hickeys, but he could care less, not with Seungyoun’s mouth finally on his again. 

The second time it was even better because he knew what was coming now. It was like a wave, crashing down onto him, _ relief _ and _ elation _ and _ want _, because all those months of pining weren’t for naught and some dumbass feelings he had that had snowballed into something more were finally being reciprocated and --oh, oh Yohan didn’t know what Seungyoun was doing with his mouth, but he was thoroughly enjoying it. And then his brain just stop, focusing fully on the feeling of Seungyoun’s lips on his, responding enthusiastically to what the other was willing to give him. 

“_Seungyoun,_” Yohan hissed when Seungyoun bit his bottom lip and tugged on it. Then he was letting go, leaning his head back. Yohan wanted to chase Seungyoun’s lips as they retreated, pull him back down onto him, onto the bed, but Seungyoun was already moving out of reach. 

“You might want to cover this up a bit,” he said, breathless as his rubbed his thumb along the edge of Yohan’s bottom lip, where the tint had undoubtedly smudged all over his foundation. “I mean, the smudged look is in, but this might be a bit much.”

Yohan just whined out a high-pitched huff of Seungyoun’s name, clutching uselessly at the loose fabric of the other’s shirt as he stepped away from the bed, a bemused smirk on his face. This was just unfair. _ Cruel _ . Cruel was a better word. It was cruel. Seungyoun was cruel. Kissing him just before they had a schedule to attend to, _ cruel._ A demon. “You’re so mean,” he bemoaned. “This is cruel, even for you.”

“C’mon, we’re going to be late,” the offending, devilishly handsome demon said with a smirk, grabbing a random pair of pants from Yohan’s section of the clothes rack that sort of matched the shirt he was wearing and throwing them at him. “We can talk about this later.”

Yohan made a noise of discontent but rolled off the bed anyways, getting out of his sleep short and into his pants in record time. He was afraid to check the time -- they were absolutely, 100% going to be late and he was never going to hear the end of it, from his members or the managers. And the fingerprints -- ! Oh god, they were going to kill him, if they really looked like hickeys, he was dead meat. He was just getting started on his career, he was too young to die.

Seungyoun flicked him in the forehead with his finger. “Are you coming, or what?”

Yohan pouted, rubbing his forehead as he purposely veered into Seungyoun’s back, following after him as he exited the room clinging to his shirt.

**Author's Note:**

> seungyoun purposely picked out a lip tint that doesnt stay on very well so he can "touch it up" for yohan later ;) ;)
> 
> \+ [twitter](https://twitter.com/peachfreezy)  
\+ [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/peachtones)


End file.
